


The Closest Quarters Yet

by firefly1311



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefly1311/pseuds/firefly1311
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feelings versus Action</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Closest Quarters Yet

**Author's Note:**

> I post this on behalf of my twin-sister dragonfly1311. I gave her the challenge “And anyway, who’s the bottom round here?” to quote.  
> Dragonfly1311: BIGTHANKS to my betas and brit-checkers PFL + Londonronnie who both did their best to get some sense into it –and because I did not listen to all of it, any odd, strange or bad expressions are to be blamed entirely on me.  
> This is the first time I dare to publish one of our stories - and please bear in mind that English isn´t my native tongue - so be kind!  
> “Youth” by Joseph Conrad (one of Britain’s most renowned writers/romanciers who started to learn English at age 21!). It’s the story of the illusions and dreams of going with the merchant navy to Bombay … or was it Bangkok … or Calcutta?  
> Information about the Glasgow Tawse you can find under “The London Tanners”.

The Closest Quarters Yet

 

Absurd, simply ridiculous, totally nuts… that’s what came to mind if someone saw the situation they were in.  
If it were not so weird one could have laughed. Probably the rest of the squad would laugh until they cried if they knew. Well, they wouldn’t tell them, that was for sure, and Murphy knew better than to risk their wrath. It would be difficult to explain anyway.

They lay there, huddled together in a ditch.

Absurd it was. Abso-bloody-lutely absurd!

*

It had been a very long day for the two of them, as they had tailed Witherspoon all across Bristol. Murphy had joined them in a second car, late in the afternoon. They had switched to a two-way communication with their colleague and informed him that the subject had obviously realised he was being followed like they had intended him to. The idea was that he would panic and head towards his companions for help. Everything had gone according to plan, but as soon as they abandoned their cars and followed Witherspoon across an industrial wasteland of warehouses and concrete, their RTs were suddenly out of range. They could still communicate with each other, but they could no longer talk to HQ. Working with Murphy was new for them, because they were tuned into each other, but it didn’t take long for a pattern to develop: Bodie set the pace, Ray followed, and Murphy took up the rear. 

On and on Witherspoon went, until the buildings became sparse, their car parks overgrown with weeds. At long last they watched him cross through the ruin of a large building, its lack of roof exposing it to the open sky. Only two opposite walls were still standing, the third side to their left nothing but flat, open grassland. The right side showed only the black waters of the adjoining canal, which ran in a ninety-degree turn behind the opposite standing wall. The interior of the building was crumbling concrete and there were several parallel, long narrow cavities in the floor like the ones in body shops, designed for under vehicle inspections. In the waning light of the late summer evening they looked like bottomless openings to the underworld. 

As they started to cross the interior space they came under fire from a single gun. Witherspoon was shooting from the far wall by the canal. They retreated back to the shelter of the other wall, not yet returning fire. 

“No-mans-land. Don’t like it.” Bodie’s low baritone sounded very tired. “He can’t go further without a boat.”

“Can he swim the canal?” 6.2 sounded dubious.

“Not likely. These industrial canals are very deep, and there are torrents from the power-plant down there.” Ray remembered the map of the area that he had seen back at HQ this morning. Both his colleagues shot him a glance, Murphy seemingly astonished and Bodie`s one full of pride. They had been teamed now for eight months and had gradually come to know and trust each other’s abilities.

“We can’t go round either. Only two options: either wait till he gives up or go and get him.” Murphy stated the obvious.

“We could outwait him.” Bodie sighed. “I don’t like no-mans-land and we don’t know if he has company. Why else would he have come here?” 

“Hm.” Ray nodded. “We can split up and try to draw fire.”

They agreed that the two of them would head for one of the trenches, about halfway across the interior, and from there they would split up to explore each end while Murphy covered them.

That was a mistake. 

*

Murphy started shooting while Bodie headed for the opening in the ground. He ran full speed and slithered into the supposedly deep ditch, dust rising from the impact of his body. Except the ditch was not man-deep but a mere 30 inches and only as wide as his shoulders. It offered barely enough cover for one man, let alone for two… 

He had to stop Ray from following him, “Ray! Don’t... umph!”

Too late. Doyle simply moved too fast. The impact of eleven-stone Ray Doyle landing full speed and whole length on top of him knocked the breath out of Bodie and in this moment he realised that his partner had no time to react to the danger they were in — no time to realise how exposed he was. Instantly, Bodie´s arms and legs clamped round the slim body like a steel trap. His fierce protective instinct told him to turn them over, to shield Doyle with his body, but there was simply not enough room to move. He could only hope that the bloody ditch was deep enough for them both. Bullets from at least two different guns whizzed over the shallow crevice within only an inch to spare and debris flew all over them. Apparently Witherspoon had at least one friend in the area. Ridiculously, Bodie found himself fighting the urge to laugh, fighting it more out of fear that his snarky berk of a partner would explode right away than to worsen the situation. Instead of laughing he spend his energy and the considerable strength of his arms to hold the daft, disoriented sod down, pressed close and out of range of the bullets and flying debris. With 4.5´s shoulder forcing his chin upwards he had his left arm over his partner’s upper back, his fingers at the base of Ray’s skull, pressing it down beside his own left ear. His right arm around his partner’s waist, deliberately protecting his kidneys, he crushed the skinny runt against his whole length. One leg entwined to hold the fighting legs down… Bodie felt a sharp flare of pain and heat on his right forearm blending out the pain from sharp debris digging into his back.

“Manna from heaven!” he managed to wheeze into the curls tickling his face. And than, some more air returning into his fighting lungs and knowing full well that Ray had no way than to stay down, “Shhh, hold still and keep your arse down, sunshine! Are you hurt?”

“No, you daft sod, not hurt. What the hell…?“ The muffled indignant snort beside his ear made Bodie grin. 

The shooting stopped and they could hear Murphy over the RT, anxiously asking what had happened and if they were okay. Bodie couldn’t reach his RT, stuck inside his pocket, so he shouted, “We’re okay, it’s a 507!” that being the code for 'Agents stuck under fire and needing help'  
.  
Ray winced at the booming voice right beside his left ear. A bloody maniac that’s what his partner was, a right maniac. And strangely enough in this situation, at that particular moment, Ray Doyle thought but a damn attractive maniac… 

They quickly checked their situation and found it extremely confined. Ray could not look over the edge of the ditch without his head being in danger of getting blown off; Bodie could not move at all, lying flat, like a beetle on his back, squeezed into the ditch which even narrowed towards the bottom. 6.2, with whom they had left most of the ammunition, was returning fire whenever their adversaries – which must now be at least two – shot, but he could only hold them in place. Witherspoon and friend were caught between the canal and Murphy; Bodie and Doyle were trapped in the ditch and within moments everyone realized that it was a classical (patt-situation) with them caught right in the middle. For Murphy it was impossible to cover two different enemies, who were shooting from yards apart from the opposite wall and so his fellow agents had to stay put. 

Ray Doyle was fuming angry and felt totally helpless, which only added to his embarrassment. “That’s ridiculous! I can’t move an inch! Oh damn! You stupid berk, why didn’t you tell me that these ditches are filled up?”

“Sunshine, did YOU see that? I didn’t realize until it was too late! You simply were too fast. …Could be worse,” Bodie muttered under his breath. “You could have landed with your feet up here!”

That provoked a rather hasty shuffle and squirm and Bodie became painfully aware again of the sharp stones digging into his back. Pure self-preservation let him firmly hold the wriggling Doyle still.  
.  
“Keep your dirty grabbies to yourself!” Ray Doyle sounded not amused. Lying full length on top of his partner, unable to move in any direction, gave him a rather unsettling feeling. He realized belatedly that Bodie had saved him and that he should have thanked him, but…but… oh, the big berk was so infuriating!

Bodie suppressed another grin in the mob of curls and answered gravely, “Sorry mate, would like to but there’s simply no room.” Unable to resist, he patted Ray’s round bottom. That earned him a vicious growl.

There was no way round it, it was absurd!

“´M trying to find out how long this stupid bloody ditch is! And to get the RT out of your pocket, so you won’t have to yell me ears off.” Doyle squirmed further down and came unshaved cheek to stubbly cheek with his partner. In the now fast waning light he saw a look of pain flicker over the handsome face for just a split-second and he stilled immediately. It could have been just a change of light but belatedly he realised that he should have checked on his partner’s well being first, as Bodie had done. He felt deeply ashamed that his temper had led him astray and his voice became low and sharp, “Are you hurt, Bodie?”

“Yeah, me pride! Nah, … don’t think so. If you could just move a little more carefully, there are some bloody sharp things digging in me spine. Just keep every part of you down, Ray.” He realized what he’d said even before he heard the wicked laughter in Ray’s voice when that dumb crud answered trying to sound serious. “I’ll do me best, but who’s the priapismic monster around here?” He chuckled at the suddenly very quiet Bodie. 

There was a moment of silence and then Ray cleared his throat and inquired delicately, desperately trying not to get hysterical, “Ahm… could you… ahm, don’t get this wrong, but … could you open your legs?” He couldn’t suppress a soft giggle, “So that I can move down?” 

Simply ridiculous! 

“Sure, my pretty, go down on me!” Bodie´s voice and twisted humour were back. Back in a soft seductive, “Anything you want, love!” And under his breath, “Gives a whole new meaning to the words Top Cop!”

A little bit unsettled by that lascivious drawl Ray proceeded with utmost care to squirm his way down the lanky body. A gorgeous body if ever he saw one, Ray Doyle the artist thought wistfully.

“Well, sunshine, that already the end of the line?” Bodie looked down into Ray’s upturned, distressed face resting just over his navel. Keenly aware of Ray’s warmth and soft pressure all over his groin he struggled to keep calm and his body under control.

“Damn! Feels like it! That’s as far as it goes. And worse, the ground rises at the end - it’s not even as deep as on your side.” For the moment Ray rested his head, face turned to the side, on Bodie´s flat belly, his arms along the long lean thighs. He became aware of the warmth under his cheek. The regular up-and-down movement of Bodie’s stomach with each breath, and the big warm hands still lying gently in his hair, sheltering his spine and head protectively. He let out a deep sigh, revelling for a second in the suddenly peaceful silence. Oh, but the man smelled nice! Ray absently wondered how that could be after all the exertion of running for such a long time in the hot weather. 

The spell broke when he heard Bodie´s stomach growl. Loudly.

He would have sworn that his partner blushed even if it was now too dark to see. 

“Sounds like we are in the lion’s den.”

“Sorry, but it’s been a while since I had some nosh. Ray, can you get the RT?”

Shuffling and more squirming and then a victorious, “Got it”. He gave the RT over very much aware that Bodie´s left hand stayed on his neck. And suddenly he realised, that his nose detected not only the nice Bodie-scent but also the unique rusty smell of blood. 

“3.7 to 6.2.”

“Go ahead 3.7. Are you both all right?”

“Yeah, we’re okay. Couldn’t get the RT.” A light reassuring grab in Ray’s neck, ““How many are there? Can you manage, Murph? Our trench proved to be a bit tight. Really tight. Sounds silly, but we can’t move without Ray’s better parts being in danger of getting blown off. ” 

Murphy seemed to ponder this information silently for a moment. Then he answered, “Two, as far as I reckon. I’ve got everything under control. Problem is, they are shooting from the end of the wall and a hole about 50 feet to the middle, which means I can’t cover both at the same time. On the other hand, they can’t get any higher to cover the trenches, so don’t worry. Except by boat there is no way one can get out from over there.” 

“We’re stuck. Can’t move an inch. Can’t help you.”

“I can manage. You just hold still. Me, I’ve got enough ammo for a whole army. And I’ve got the night-sight. We’ll have to wait for the cavalry, girls. Have to come eventually, when we don’t report in. Don’t take any risks.”

“Could you send over a six-pack and some nosh?” Bodie pleaded, “´M starving! And Doyle wont last me long - skinny slip that he is!” He grinned down his front and watched as Ray, who had inched up to breast-level again, perform a mock bite with gleaming teeth.

“I’ll inform you as soon as anything happens or if I’m contacted. Just stay down and leave your RT open. 6.2. out.”

Bodie lowered the RT and felt Ray take it from his hand, positioning it beside Bodie´s head. He relaxed and didn’t look when he felt Ray’s hands start a thorough check of his body, long fingers gliding over his head, down his face, throat and neck, and proceeding round his shoulders. 

“What are you up to, Goldilocks? Not exactly the right moment to start something naughty, mate.”

The fingers kept on going round his left shoulder. The voice was very soft on the warm summer night. “If I were up to something naughty, you would be the … “ He stopped abruptly and continued with, “Just wanna check why I smell blood, sunshine.”

“Wrong time of the month?”

An indignant snort but the check went on. Down Bodie´s right shoulder and arm and in the instant Ray felt the moisture of blood his partner flinched and sucked in a sharp breath.

“Guess that’s it.” They both knew that in the heat of the action, when the adrenaline was high, one could miss being hit.

The torn sleeve of the leather jacket was rolled up. Carefully and very gently, Doyle examined the deep, long gash that stretched from elbow to wrist.  
Bodie squinted down at him. “Yeah, now I remember. No big deal. Must have been some gravel flying when I ducked in here.” 

They both knew that gravel could not tear the leather and that the cause had to have been a bullet. A bullet that had missed Ray only because of Bodie clamping him down.

“We’ll need to tie it up, mate.” A knee thrust between Bodie´s thighs, forcing them as far apart as the width of the ditch allowed. Doyle shuffled around using his swiss army knife and then there was a loud tearing noise in the dark followed by Doyle’s weight, all hot bare skin settling back down on Bodie´s groin and stomach. Bodie sucked in and held his breath, feeling not pain but hot lust flooding him. He was desperately glad for the dark night.

“Was only the front of my t-shirt…” 

“Don’t strip any more, idiot, the night could be long and cold.”

“´M sure you’ll keep me warm!” Ray sounded content, busily tying up the arm. That accomplished he inched up again. “Anything else I should take care of?”

“Nah, thanks, just lie still.”

“Am I too heavy?”

“Yeah, you weigh a ton! No one would think such a dainty fragile … Ow! Well… no, it’s just some sharp rubbish in me back.”

Immediately Ray tried to slide his hands round Bodie´s waist, but the ground was hard as metal. And as cold. Bodie gently stopped the roaming hands by pressing his arms to his sides. “I know you wanna help, but you know, mate, I’m terribly ticklish, so stop that!” The enquiring hands stopped.

“Ticklish?” Ray sounded like he was filing this information to some hidden brain storage for future use.

“Yeah, ticklish, you nuisance!”

“Is it okay if I lay my head down here? My neck… ” Ray sounded cautious.

“Yeah, sure, make yourself comfortable. As long as I’m able to breathe a little bit.” But when Ray didn't move Bodie sighed, “I really meant it, mate.” and used his hands to press the curly head unto his shoulder, holding him close, Ray for once not struggling against that intimacy..

Silence then, and both men mused about the silly situation they were in.

“Bodie, you were right. It could have been worse.”

“Hm?”

“You could have landed on top of me!” 

The only answer was a low growl, but Bodie grinned into the night. He left his hands on his infuriating git of a partner, not knowing where to place them now.

“Ahmm, … Bodie?”

“Hm?”

"Thanks for holding me down.”

“Hm.”

“Didn’t get why you were there and not … ah, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Silence again, and then Ray Doyle actually snuggled against his partner, trying to make himself comfortable.

Oh God Bodie thought when the warm body settled onto him even more closely. His sensible nose was buried in riotous curls, smelling sweat, shampoo and wonderful warm Doyle-scent. He felt his hands start to tremble and all his blood seemed to rush into his groin. The little bugger probably didn’t know what he was doing, squirming on top of him like a worm on a hook… Some time went by but instead of calming down, Doyle’s fidgeting became even worse. Just when Bodie thought that the clod couldn’t possibly miss his building erection, and that he’d have to say something, he was startled to hear Ray swearing worse than any docker he’d ever met. And suddenly he felt the tension in the slim body. Damn!

“Ahm, Ray if it’s… “ 

He was dumbfounded when Ray went on, “S…sorry, mate! Oh damn, confounded damn!” 

“What?”

There was no answer, just more squirming and shuffling of feet. Bodie became really worried, and that dampened his erection quite effectively.

“Ray, for God’s sake, what is it?”

It took a long moment and then came a very meek voice near his heart. “Ahm,… I… ahm, we’ve got a problem.”

“What?”

“Ahm,… sorry mate, I …” 

Deafening silence yet again.

“Ray, you could try the patience of a saint. Out with it!” 

“Sorry, … ahm, need to pee! My bladder is killing me.”

The ex-soldier needed every iota of will not to laugh at his devastated partner. He had already realised that his position in the ditch meant he’d be on the receiving end. There was no help for it. Yet he knew Doyle well enough to know that the stupid sod would risk his health by trying to avoid the inevitable. Or he would blame himself for following nature’s call. Or, worse, try to leave the ditch. Imagine writing a report explaining 4.5 was leaving shelter because he needed to pee — try explaining that to the Cow!

That would not do. 

Not with HIS partner. 

Deep inside he was very proud of himself that he managed to sound totally cool and unaffected when he heroically stated, “No problem, mate. Just normal bodily functions. Go ahead!”

Ray Doyle did not quite believe his ears. He was mortified. Not only about the fact that he would have to "go-ahead" and do it, but also because he had thought the always impeccable Bodie would mock him for the predicament he was in—or turn nasty and treat him with contempt. He would have avoided the topic if the pressure in his bladder had not reached a state where even his kidneys hurt. Damn! 

“Yeah, but… but I don’t know, ahm … you realise, that you probably will…” There seemed to be no words to explain to the daft sod, that he, Bodie, would have to suffer being peed on by his own partner. He swallowed hard and started again. “I can’t move away enough, you bloody fool!”

“I know. But it’s no problem, Ray.” Bodie even managed to sound slightly bored.

“I mean, I don’t wanna …” Firm hands took hold of him.

“You will! And you can!” And when that got no answer or action Bodie said, cool as a breeze at dawn, “Listen, Ray. Neither of us are enjoying this, but be assured I‘ve experienced worse. As long as you don’t flood that whole bloody ditch, for me to drown in, it’s really no problem at all. It’s a natural bodily function, that’s what it is. I’ll be probably following your lead if they don’t get at us before dawn! I don’t risk damage out of reasons of modesty or shame. I was just lucky that I watered the wall back there before running over here.”

Silence.

And Bodie drawled soft and very tender, “…Or do you need help with the zipper, mate?”

A deep sigh, and Ray started to squirm his way down Bodie´s body again. He went as far as possible down between the slightly spread thighs of his stoical partner. 

Perhaps he even went too far, because there came a volley of shots aimed at his feet. He scrambled down the ditch again and heard Murphy over the RT asking why they didn’t stay down. Bodie answered with a very reasonable, “Calm down, Smurph! We were only trying to throw out some stones which were in our way. We’ll stay put now. 3.7 out.”

Ray looked up but saw in the dim night that Bodie´s head was laid back, his partner quite obviously NOT watching him. And also obviously not touching him with his hands busily handling the RT. He rested his head on Bodie´s warm belly, shoulders on the narrow hips when he took both his hands down to unzip his jeans and whispered, “Sorry, mate…”

Bodie started talking just to make noise and help the silly bugger. “Could be much worse, mate. Like I said, I’ve been through worse. There have been times I would have been glad if the mess surrounding me had only been urine. You know, technically, urine is antiseptic.” He stoically talked on even when he felt warm moisture wet the back of his trousers, quickly spreading towards his back. “And you could use it to wash out oil because of its chemical nature. Anyway, one time there was this rotten dump near the river and I was in it, bound chest-deep in mud and shit and blood. Some of it was mine. And then this feller right beside me…”

He was interrupted by a deep sigh and very soft, “Ta, mate …”

“No sweat, mate!” Bodie squeezed Doyle’s shoulders reassuringly and then made a somewhat shy tender gesture to touch the bouncy curls but withdrew his hand before making contact.

He thought Ray hadn’t seen that and the ex-copper - who had - didn’t comment. Ray was still wondering about his enigmatic partner, who presented such a cold unrelenting front, and yet could sometimes be so kind and considerate. Ray knew all this cool talk about the whole mess had been done only to help him. It was deep gratitude he felt for the nutter, for making difficult things easy. For not taking advantage of their partnership. For putting up with him.

Ray shuffled to close his jeans and than moved up again. His relief was so obvious that Bodie had to smother a smile. Settling his arms in the only way possible around the slim form lying on top of him, he asked, “That okay? No room at me sides.”

“Yeah, sure. Perfect, will keep me warm.” Ray wondered at the heat radiating from his partner. Bodie always seemed to be cold, dressing in polo necks and covered from throat to toes, but at the moment he radiated heat like a veritable hot water bottle.

“You cold?”

“Not yet, but like you said, the night will cool down.” Ray rested the right side of his face on Bodie´s broad left shoulder. It didn’t make sense to move further up because then his weight would hinder even more his partner’s ability to breath. 

“Wait …could you …” They shuffled around a bit, opening jackets and arranging collars, arms and legs. Settling down at last, feeling a bit unsure, Bodie said, “If you get cold, you stick your hands under my jacket. ´M sorry that your back will feel the night.” 

“Better the cold than some bullet. How’s yours?”

“Okay. Can’t feel the stones any more.”

“I mean the cold. The ground’s awfully chilly.”

“Nah, no problem at all, mate. Are you tired? Do we take turns for rest?”

“We were due to report in every two hours. They should be searching for us by now. It’s already 11 pm.”

“Sorry, Ray. Don’t wanna depress you, but honestly I guess it’s going to take quite some time. Like they say on the continent, in some towns the clocks work a little bit slower than in London.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right, mate. Probably the Super will first contact the Chief and then they will arrange a meeting tomorrow and then…”

“Got it.”

“I’m sorry for the Smurph. We are lucky he started late shift. Hope Cowley will kick some arse!” 

“As long as it’s not ours!” Bodie shook his head. “Still can’t believe this. It’s ridiculous.”

Ray sniggered. “What, having your partner as a blanket feels ridiculous?”

“Nah, the human cover feels a bit bony but okay.“ That earned him a sharp nudge. “Ouch! I’m more used to soft pliant birds covering me at night.”

“You mean the goose feathers in your duvet, old boy?”

Bodie grinned in the dark. The little sod was fast. Had fast feet and a fast brain. And the body between… Oh, better not to think of that. It was strangely disturbing how this skinny frame snuggled close.

“Yeah …and I beat the dust out of it regularly! With a big carpet beater. Would work wonders on you!” He tightened his hold around Doyle threateningly for a second.

Ray bit on his lower lip to stifle his laughter. That berk! He snuggled deliberately closer and retorted, reciting very freely, “You mean where others failed, the mighty big butch will prevail? Nah, won’t work, sunshine. And anyway, who’s the bottom round here?” With that he buried his face in Bodie´s shoulder, his whole body shaking with silent laughter.

*  
They agreed to take turns trying to sleep, even if both pretended not to need it. With Bodie taking on the first two hours watch Doyle found himself nodding off quite fast. The steady beat of Bodie´s heart and the regular slow breathing under his cheek was really soporific. He felt safe and as comfortable as he could be, resting on the lean warm body within the circle of arms holding him. The last thought he was conscious of was that he had within the last few hours learned more about his partner than in the whole eight months before. So, the daft sod was ticklish… 

And he had learned something about himself. Something somewhat disturbing …

* 

He must have had stimulating dreams, because he woke with a start and realised in the same instant that his throbbing erection was resting between Bodie´s thighs. And that his face was intimately buried against Bodie´s warm pulsing throat.

“Shhh, everything’s okay. Stay down.” Bodie´s soft voice sounded reassuringly normal. The hands, which had tightened their grip on him when he started awake, released him. 

Doyle didn’t know what to say. He tried to ease the pressure in his groin by spreading his thighs but that only made it worse. 

The very soft deep voice above his head said, “Either you had some very nice dreams, mate, or you should remove your magnum from under my balls. I’m ticklish there too!”

“Don’t carry a magnum, idiot!”

“Not under your arm, mate, but…”

“Oh God, Bodie, I’m sorry. Don’t take it personally, seems today I fuck up everything…”

“Not me, not here, mate! I don’t like the stones in me back - too uncomfortable!”

Ray gave a wry snort. It was so absurd — they were glued together with no room to move, and he was stumbling from one embarrassment into the next. Although he was flattered by Bodie’s comment about the size of his erection… 

“Really, Bodie, I’m sorry. It’s just ... must have dreamed.”

“Hm,” was all the reaction he got and very much aware that he could not move away, not even lift his pelvis off Bodie´s thighs one inch, he tried to concentrate on something harmless, “How long did I sleep?”

“´Bout two hours. Missed the most spectacular shower of shooting stars. The Perseidea are early this year.”

“Shooting stars with names? That’s what they’re called?” Ray wonderingly looked up and saw Bodie watching the night sky. He was really a strange mix, this partner of his. He could be a cold ruthless predator one minute, and the next a poetry-quoting romantic, full of strange bits of information. 

“Yeah, they return about late August – the Perseidea in August and the Leonidea in November - every year.” And a bit uncomfortable not to sound admonishing he added, “Learned that in the Merchant Navy.”

“Did you wish for something?”

That was not answered at all.

* 

They contacted Murphy and were reassured that nothing had happened so far. Nor had anyone from HQ contacted them. 6.2 was trying the RT at regular intervals, but no one had come within range.

“You take over the watch?” Bodie sounded weary. 

“Yes, sure! Get some sleep, mate. Are you cold?”

“No. Ta, Ray. My human blanket is warm enough. You cold?”

“Nah, thanks. Just get some sleep.”

Ray settled his head back on Bodie’s shoulder in an angle that allowed him to listen with both ears for any noise. Than he made every effort to breath regularly and slowly gaining control over his body.

Bodie seemed to fall instantly asleep. His breathing slowed and deepened and his chin came to rest against Doyle’s head. Ray heard some faint unidentifiable sounds and than the arms around him relaxed, grew heavy, but stayed where they were. Like a little kid cuddling his beloved bear, Ray thought, very amused.

Silence.

Ray Doyle realised that for the first time since they had been partnered he felt at ease. Oddly enough, in this situation of forced and unwanted closeness, he hadn’t felt pushed or dominated by his sometimes difficult and unpredictable partner. Instead, he’d felt safe in a strange way, cloaked in a kind of intimate understanding and acceptance. His own feelings seemed strangely disconnected with his self-confidence, out of grabs for full comprehension, but not unpleasant. Warm, was the only word that came to mind. 

Change of perspective, that must be the reason for both of them easing up. Not pushing any more. The artist in him understood perspective. Being too close to see the whole you were forced to acknowledge what was right before your eyes: a beautiful face, that became touchingly revealing at close range, and a truly gorgeous body hidden deliberately under clothes in abundance. Exactly mirroring the attempt to hide vulnerability under the covers of coolness, sarcasm and clowning. Eight months fighting for the right angle of perspective and tonight the absurd situation they had manoeuvred themselves into changed nearly everything. 

Not daring to analyse that change further, he contemplated his surroundings as far as he could manage. There was the side of the ditch, luckily not lined in metal because then ricochets would have been a worry. The ground of the hole was hard as concrete, even if it were just gravel. He hoped that Bodie would suffer no real injury from the sharp stones in his back. It was amazing that the bugger could sleep lying on that cold uneven surface. But he had experienced before that Bodie could sleep nearly anywhere and any time. 

That brought his attention back to the soft skin with the extremely pleasant scent right under his nose. He wrinkled his nose and then deliberately inhaled deeply. Yeah, definitely pleasant if not outright erotic. A heady composition of sweat, the sort you work up in sports activities, a faint hint of an expensive after-shave, something woody-mossy-fruity and a unique identifiable Bodie-ingredient. Ray felt his face go hot when he could not detect the smell he was anticipating, that of his urine. Sometimes he wondered if he was the only one who stumbled into disasters like that. It seemed his immaculate partner never showed human imperfections, like having to pee in the worst situation one can think of. Or getting a hard-on while lying full-length on top of your partner. Not to mention throwing-up beside the road only seconds after Bodie stopped the car last Thursday … 

*

The sleeper beneath him stirred and the hands on Ray’s back twitched. Low sounds mixed with heavy breathing. Alarmed, Ray glanced up but found Bodie´s eyes still closed. From this distance despite the darkness he could see that the eyes were moving rapidly under the eyelids, long lashes quivering. Ah, so he was dreaming. Ray’s amusement over this all too human imperfection vanished instantly when he heard the low moan that ended in a tiny distressed sound. The sleeper rolled his head agitatedly from side to side and started mumbling incoherent words. It wasn’t English but French mixed with Arabic. Bodie’s distress was real, that definitely was no pleasant dream and Ray decided to act. The risk that Bodie would endanger them both by involuntarily moving was too big. For a moment he thought of waking the daft sod but then a tiny voice inside his heart argued that the daft git needed the sleep. Unsure of how to handle it, he felt helpless and angry with himself. In the dark, he frowned, exasperated, at his own hands, for the first time in his life regarding them as clumsy. A fierce feeling of protectiveness made him lay one hand against a stubbly cheek, stilling the rolling head and before he realised what he was doing he snuggled against the warm throat and neck and dared to whisper, “Shhhh, sunshine, everything’s okay … you’re only dreaming, shhhh”. 

Ray Doyle, the ex-copper, used his most soothing tone and after a long very strange moment of awkwardness it suddenly sounded okay. He realised with wonder that he really felt the soft tenderness his voice expressed. And the feeling was not bad. Not bad at all. “No need to get upset, mate. Shhh, easy, sunshine, easy … Yeah, that’s better, nice and easy … It’s only a dream.”  
It took a few minutes but then his daring action was rewarded when the heavy breathing evened out and the fidgeting stopped. Bodie rolled his face into the curls and became quiet. Regular breaths indicated deep sleep and Doyle felt the arms around him relax again. 

Ray just stayed where he was feeling decidedly odd. Very, very odd indeed. He wouldn’t forget this night for a very long time.

*

Time went by. Ray’s alert sense of hearing only detected natural sounds like Bodie´s steady breathing, some lovesick crickets and the wind. He tried to subdue his other senses for fear of becoming turned on again by his sleeping partner. The heat radiating from his partner’s body was enough to keep himself comfortable in the cooling night and his mind started wandering. He thought about his erection earlier and tried to remember the dream that had obviously triggered it. But being honest he had to admit that it wasn’t the dream but Bodie his body had reacted to. That he felt far more than matey about the daft sod - that the presence of his partner had triggered the dream and his reaction. Oh God!

And it was exactly at that moment that he felt something stir against his stomach. Something inside Bodie´s corduroys. And he had to suppress a wicked giggle. The part in question rapidly grew hard and bulging - very hard and very bulging as it pressed into Ray’s belly. His eyes grew very round. So much for tight jeans and loose fitting corduroys! He held his breath in anticipation of Bodie waking but the brat only sighed and slept on, strong hands drawing Ray close in a sweet and gentle embrace, lips nuzzled in Ray’s curls. Slowly, Ray let out his breath but he didn’t dare move one inch. He only checked his watch, determined not to wake his partner, to spare him the embarrassment. But then he smiled to himself. The dumb clot probably wouldn’t be embarrassed but state natural bodily functions!

Ray wondered if his partner’s erection was a purely natural reaction to the weight on top of him? 

Bodie only sighed softly and made little movements to get more comfortable but didn’t wake and Ray had the night to think about his troubled feelings.

Natural or unnatural, Ray checked his watch in amusement when at long last, after nearly 50 minutes, the hardness subsided. During their first double date, a couple of weeks ago, they had ended the evening in Bodie´s flat with both couples within sight and earshot of each other. He had already learned about his partner’s stamina, hearing and seeing him through the open bedroom door. At that date the sight and sound of his energetic partner with his eager bird had had him really going. He had been pleasuring his own bird as she sat on top of him, and had looked at Bodie – and seeing him glance back he had come right away. He remembered the sight of that moonlit, ghostly pale body; the beautiful movement of muscles as Bodie had thrust hard and deep at the command of the little wanton bitch lying under him. And he remembered the unbelievably erotic groan of Bodie´s climax. 

With difficulty, Ray returned his thoughts to the treacherously quiet surroundings of the abandoned building. No, that night definitely hadn’t been too cold. He felt uncomfortably flushed and tried to clamp down on his excitement. It just wouldn’t do to wake his partner and again be the one with the embarrassing hardness. 

*

Bodie´s hot breath against his head became uneven. Then he stirred and slowly opened his eyes. He let out a long sigh and blinked, his raven lashes moving like some sort of slow luxurious fan.

“Morning.” Ray’s voice was soft and enquiring.

“Yeah … morning.” Still very sleepy, it took a moment for Bodie to realise the close embrace he had on his partner. He reluctantly let go and sort of tried an explanation. “Night got a bit cold. You okay?”

“´M not cold. Thanks to you, mate. You?”

“Nah, … only stiff.” The moment he said it he heard Ray’s soft dirty chuckle.

“Well, why should I be the only one…?”

“My back, you silly git!” He gave a big, lazy yawn.

“Always thought a back would be on the backside of a person. So, that was your hidden Magnum?” Ray mumbled but regretted the words the moment he felt the daft sod tense and imaginary shutters descend. Inside, he swore and hastened to say, “Took it as a compliment, mate!”

A moment silence and than came an apologetic, “Sorry! Ray, I’m …” 

“No need to! Natural bodily functions you know!” Ray worried if he had destroyed the relaxed mood out of fear the situation got out of hand. Out of his hands. He felt a pang of deep sorrow for losing the intimate, tender communication with his emotionally shy partner and blinked with astonishment when he felt Bodie relax again and heard him mumble a sleepy and confident “Yeah, you’re right mate. Only natural with an armful of sweet smelling golly…” Bodie’s voice trailed off and it took a few more minutes before he really came awake. 

“How late is it?”

“Just gone 3 am. We better check on the Smurph.”

“Yeah, if he’s still there.”

Ray activated the RT and they confirmed the unchanged situation.

“Murph, I won’t be able to move at all if I have to lay here much longer!” Bodie complained. “My muscles are starting to cramp.”

Ray shot him a worried glance but calmed down again when the hands on his back tightened reassuringly.

“You wanna try to move? Don’t! They’re still up and about as far as I can see with the night-sight. They’re giving each other signs at regular intervals. Don’t try something stupid. Just stay put.”

“Murph, you’ll have to dig me out of this bloody trench… “

“Stop complaining, I’m damn frozen myself, Bodie!”

“´M not frozen. That dainty ton of a partner is crushing me!” He winked at the glaring Ray and held his struggling, outraged partner tight for a second before he continued with suppressed laughter in his voice. “Murph, if alone and palely loitering, you should try warm thoughts!”

“That’s an expert’s advice, 3.7? What’s 4.5´s opinion on that?”

Ray grabbed the RT and hissed, “That you both are complete nuts! We stay put. 4.5 out.”

He frowned at his angelic looking devil of a partner but than it dawned on him that this was the younger one’s strategy for keeping things under control. Make some silly joke and push every disturbing thought or emotion as far away as possible or under tight lock. Close the shutters. Okay, fine with him. He too felt no urge to analyse the feelings he had encountered over the last few hours right now... 

*

The night wore on. Sometimes they talked a bit in an attempt to make the hours pass more quickly but mostly they rested quietly. 

There were lots of things Ray wanted to ask his partner. But he knew he had to be subtle because he had learned how fast the secluded Bodie would retreat behind emotional shutters. As solid as he appeared physically, he was shy when it came to personal matters. Ray was well aware that it was only now he was allowed a glimpse behind the mask the ex-soldier showed the rest of the world. The daft sod must have had some bad experiences in his life to be so emotionally withdrawn. Given the open banter and easy intimacy of this night he thought of taking advantage of it to learn more about Sergeant no-first-name Bodie.

“How is your breathing? Should I shift? Would like to take my weight off you, but there’s simply not enough room.” 

Bodie chuckled. “As long as you don’t dig your bony elbows into my diaphragm, my breathing is okay. Trying to act like a gentleman, Ray?”

Ray Doyle grinned mischievously and countered with “You in need of some lessons, sunshine?”

An answering low laugh. “What lessons would those be? How to drive your partner round the bend? Or, a golly´s way to … Ouch!” He grimaced and rubbed his abused ear with his shoulder, continuing in a complaining tone. “Yeah, could picture that! Teacher Doyle abusing his poor, innocent pupil!”

“Innocent isn’t a word I would choose in connection with you. Not even when I imagine you at school, mate!”

“Was a veritable little angel!” Doing his best to look most angelic and nearly succeeding after a tiny moment, Bodie relented, “Nah, could be right with that, but I really didn’t earn all the beatings I took. No-one could have.”

“That the reason you left school so early?” 

Typically avoiding the answer to such a personal question, Bodie asked back, “Don’t tell me you weren’t beaten at school?”

“Actually quite a lot and even more at home. Had trouble to sit most of the time. Ever heard of a Glasgow Tawse? But you haven’t answered my question, Bodie.”

“Persistent sod!” Bodie looked down into unblinking slanted eyes and saw sincere interest and tiny golden sparks in a sea of green – even more beautiful than the Perseidae. That was too much. It hadn’t been problems at school that had led to his leaving, but he said “Yeah, something like that. Problems at school, the lure of the wide world, take your choice! One day, my nosey friend, I’ll tell you the sad story of my misspent youth, but not tonight!” And then a bit hasty to distract the ex-copper, “And what’s that tawny thing then?”

Ray Doyle sighed silently. So much for subtlety… 

*

More time went by. Birds started to chorus jubilantly, the stars dimmed and vanished and the darkness faded to grey. 

The dawny dew made Ray’s hair curl even more into corkscrews, softening his appearance to a heavy-lidded, dark-stubbled and totally irresistible sweetness. When they talked to Murphy again, Bodie watched the soft, perfectly shaped lips - enticing in their seductiveness – as they formed words. Absently he thought of how kissable they looked. The slanted greens added to the impression of a lazy cat when Ray stretched, long limbs elegant even in that confined space. Bodie swallowed hard and stared straight up into the promise of a bright hot day trying to shut out the stimulating messages his keen sense of smell was conveying. Fresh dew, a whiff of saltwater, and sleep-warm Ray Doyle… what a mixture! One should bottle and sell it. He smiled to himself, feeling ridiculously happy despite – or because of – the ridiculous setting they were still trapped in. 

And Ray Doyle thought that it must be the grey dawn and the dreamy sleepiness still lingering in those midnight blues that made Bodie not only look incredibly beautiful but frighteningly young and vulnerable, the latter being an impression he never before had associated with his solid partner. 

After that call to 6.2 they both stayed silent, each one afraid any comment would destroy the comfortable mood that allowed them both some sort of controlled relaxation. And each one tried not to let his thoughts and feelings run astray.

* 

The first rays of the fast ascending sun hit the concrete around them and it became hotter and more uncomfortable by the minute. After only a little more time, the sun started to burn down mercilessly despite the still young morning. 

“You okay?” Bodie sounded worried, his hands carefully sheltering Ray’s head without touching and adding to the warmth.

“You mean if I’m already well done? Yeah! You’re right! How about your arm and back, sunshine?”

“No problem with the arm. Just need to move me legs a bit. Feel terribly rusted.” That admission made Doyle swear inside and he moved downwards, taking his weight more on his elbows left and right of his partner’s narrow hips. When Bodie moved his legs Ray heard the strain in a deep sigh and then the admission, “Ray, I don’t know how fast I can move if we ever get out of here.”

The ex-cop leaned his weight more on his left side and started to massage his partner’s left thigh. He smothered any protest by gruffly stating, “Stop being stroppy! And don’t worry, sunshine! I can manage. Better you stay here and provide cover. Watch me back.” The muscles under his strong fingers were cramped and rock-hard and he could imagine how it hurt to move them. He worked hard, kneading that long thigh from the knee up, commanding Bodie to flex his feet and toes. It took some time but it was a welcome distraction to the rising heat. He started sweating inside his leather jacket and rummaged through the pockets in search of a hanky. What he found brought such an enthusiastic smile to his partner’s darkly stubbled face that he cheerfully surrendered the cherry-flavoured chewing gum. 

He didn’t understand at first why Bodie adamantly refused that his thigh should be also massaged on the back as far as possible until it dawned on him that Bodie´s trousers were still suffering from his … his … ahm, accident. In addition to the heat already colouring his face he blushed like a maiden, and was grateful his partner spared him from any comment.

Trapped in that shallow ditch, surrounded by crumbling concrete, they both suffered from the unusually hot English summer morning. Sweat ran down Ray’s back and the normally bouncy curls hung limply into the soft round face. The back of his legs felt burning hot and he was terribly thirsty. With his partner’s help he took off his leather jacket, placing it beside Bodie´s head. The thin front-torn t-shirt clung to his sweating skin making him look even more sleek and dangerous. 

“Now don’t tell me anything about the heat in Africa!” 

Bodie, who had been thinking about something else entirely, blinked, confused. “Huh?”

“I mean, “ Ray continued, “I can’t imagine why anyone in his right mind would face a climate even hotter than this bloody one here!”

“Wasn’t going there for the weather, mate.”

“Yeah, I know. But how can anyone stand it?”

“By thinking how cold a grave will be.” He wished he hadn’t said that when he saw Ray’s eyes widen in realisation. He softened his statement by adding, “Most important rule is: don’t move. Stay still in one place as long as possible.” He understood Ray’s frustration and he tried to distract that temperamental hotshot by talking on. He didn’t know that his unconscious quick smile was all the distraction and reassurance needed…

*

When Ray started in on Bodie´s right thigh muscles, the RT crackled into life.

“6.2 to 3.7 and 4.5. Girls, come in! Get yourselves decent, we are expecting company.”

Murphy told them that at long last the cavalry was heading their way and then they heard an approaching motor and exclaimed simultaneously “That’s a boat!”

Quickly they agreed on how to proceed and checked their weapons. Doyle let out a deep sigh, expressing his impatience. He was high-strung like a racehorse ready to leave the box, Bodie thought. 4.5´s face became soft when he closed his eyes for a moment and rested his head on Bodie´s shoulder to concentrate. They heard Murphy and at least one more rifle from the direction of the canal start shooting and Doyle tensed. The smile he threw his partner before all softness fled and he grabbed his gun and leapt out of that ditch, a hard and alert hunter on the prowl, was dazzling and strangely enticing. 

The cavalry, arriving by boat on the canal, ordered the weapons thrown down and when that command wasn’t followed more shots were being fired. 

It was all over by the time Bodie managed to make it out of the ditch. With legs totally cramped and stiff as wooden sticks and a back aching like hell he moved round the wall by the canal just in time to watch two unknown local coppers and Murphy and Ray pinning Witherspoon and friend to the ground. Still fighting cramped muscles, he stumbled past them and found the hidden opening in the back of the wall where boxes of guns and ammo were stacked.

*

The local members of the fuzz swarmed the place, everyone trying to appear efficient and in control under the cold stare of the recently arrived George Cowley. That expression became even more freezing when he overheard two local coppers making fun of the clumsiness of “that super-cop who nearly fell into the canal”. His soft tone didn’t deceive the two boys in blue when he asked, “So, did you really sit at your HQ waiting for CI5, instead of going on an active search when my lads didn’t report in as was agreed on?”

They hastily uttered some excuses, fearing the worst for their SI, before hurrying away when let off the hook. The Controller waited until they were out of sight before he joined the activity at the wall by the canal. He waited silently for the locals to finish and leave before he faced his three agents. They came to meet him in their own time, 6.2 red-nosed and seemingly tired, 3.7 soaking wet from bare feet up to his shoulder holster and suspiciously subdued and 4.5 outright dirty in torn clothes. Yet they were all unusually bright-eyed and seemingly running high on adrenaline.

He listened to their neat recollection of events without interrupting but his first question was, “How do you come to be without shoes and soaking wet, 3.7? And what about your arm?” 

“Sir!” Bodie stood to attention. “The arm is okay, a mere scratch. Secured that arms lot down there at the waterline and stumbled, Sir. Sorry Sir, was fighting some muscle-cramps.”

Cowley glanced in the direction indicated but saw only a neat pair of shoes and sunburned grass on the bank of the canal. He realised he was being lied to when he saw 4.5 stare straight ahead and …blush? Well, he also had been stuck in trenches for hours in his day – even if his had had room to walk in - and understood the inconveniences. Full comprehension dawned and his anger about his awfully “clumsy” lad gave way to the hope that at long last the teaming of these two would prove to work out. He nodded and wondered how this protective loyalty for each other would develop. He silenced Doyle - who was about to speak - with a gesture. “4.5, take my car and 3.7 and head back to your hotel. Get his arm seen to. I will go back with the Superintendent and 6.2. Two other agents are on their way down from London and will take over interrogation. As soon as you can manage it, meet us at Blandon Street Police Station for debriefing. Bodie, get some blankets from the locals first. I won’t have my car-seat ruined by canal water!” And under his breath he added, “..or anything else there is!”

“Yes, Sir.” Bodie went without a glance towards his colleagues to pick up his shoes and the blankets.

Cowley wondered what he would read in their reports. 

*

“What did you do all night stuck down there?” In the corridor of CI5 HQ the newest trainee addition to the squad, McCabe, grinned at them curiously, luckily for them not really knowing any details about the situation they had been in. 

“Discussing English literature of the 19th century!” Ray stated unhesitatingly, not daring to look at Bodie.

“Discussing WHAT?” Mac gaped open-mouthed. He had been warned about these two.

“LITERATURE!” Ray said, and before Mac had the opportunity to comment he went on, deliberately ignoring Bodie´s frown, “Yes, we discussed 3.7 being portrayed in one of Joseph Conrad’s short novels.”

Bodie nodded, turned towards the glassy-eyed Mac and said with a smug smile, “Yes! You know, the hero in 'Heart of Darkness'! The one who went into the jungle to find that Colonel Kurtz!” 

His smile froze when Ray shook his head and admonished, “No, no mate, we agreed on the hero in 'Youth'!”

They turned away, hotly discussing, and left a blinking Mac to shake his head in wonder. He heard Bodie snort indignantly when Doyle elaborated, “Yes, sure, the hero in 'Youth'! Wasn’t he the one who ran away from home as a boy to join the merchant navy to go and see Bombay… or was it Calcutta? It was the only story I ever read from…” Their voices faded down the corridor.

McCabe blinked again and looked up startled because he had George Cowley frowning at him.

“Never read Joseph Conrad, McCabe?” Cowley sounded bewildered, like the idea of any member of CI5 not having learned all about writers of the last century was most strange. “What are you waiting for lad? On y´r bike!”

McCabe fled down the corridor.


End file.
